


Dear Synox

by mudkipwrites



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Clones, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Podcast: Campaign (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkipwrites/pseuds/mudkipwrites
Summary: Work heats up for Synox as he tracks down A.J., 'the pink-haired siren,' after her Dear Bluebird letter.
Relationships: CC-1812 | Synox/ A.J.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Dear Synox

>>>>

START

>>>>

> _Dear Synox:_
> 
> _Remember that time you arrested me when I stole all those diamonds? That was real fun! You sure know how to show a girl a good time! We should get together real soon and give it another go. I hear that there’s a flashy new exhibit at the local museum...maybe I will see you there? This time, you_ _can wear the binders._
> 
> _XOXO, A.J._

>>>

CC-1812 twists the scrap of flimsy between his fingertips. It has become crumpled and damp from repetitive wear, and the ink is beginning to wear thin in places. Clone Commander Synox must admit that he's looked at her handwriting so often during these past few days that he can practically the looping curves of her signature blazed into the back of his eyelids. 

_Unprofessional,_ he scolds himself. _Entirely unprofessional. For an Imperial such as myself._

Like his role in life, the Synox' mission tonight is simple: he is to represent the Imperial interests of Coruscant by intercepting the thief known as _A.J._ before she absconds with more cultural artifacts. In doing so, he will not only uphold the local systems of law and justice; he would _also_ restore a shred of the personal dignity that he'd lost last time. Because, last time, she had gotten away.

But more to the point; she had left him in _binders._ Chained to his own office _door_. And with his trousers around his _ankles._

Clone Commander Synox blames himself for the mistake. As a high-ranking officer, he ought to have been prepared for every kind of trickery and deception, including the art of... _feminine wiles._ However, despite his countless years of Imperial service, he had been caught off guard by her work of seduction. When the pink-haired siren had leaned into his chest, Synox had been about to lecture in the etiquette of personal space; he had _not_ been expecting her to take his lip between glossy, white teeth and suck into his mouth. He had _not_ been prepared for the way that her hands had slipped out of her binders, slipped into his waistband, and how she'd begun heatedly stroking him off. The professional responce, of course, would have been for Synox to com for some backup; and yet, he found himself panting and groaning into her mouth, gasping as she'd firmly and expertly gotten him off for the first time in _years._

What did it _matter,_ that he'd not engaged in such liaisons for nearly a decade? Why should he _care,_ that he'd seen stars imploding while he had came in her silken-smooth hands? Synox is a _professional._ And--unlike _Adnau_ \--he _can_ manage to keep his mind on his work, and resist the temptations of the flesh around him. Apprehending A.J. tonight would be nothing more than just another night on the job. _End of story._ He has no other feelings about it _whatsoever_. 

Synox scans the layout of the building below him. From this vantage-point, he can see every possible exit that she might take for the heist. He'd used the past several, sleeplessness nights to calculate her potential strategies, thereby preparing himself for whatever A.J. could throw at him. Synox would be _loathe_ to repeat his error again, and he is _not_ going to lose her with out a fight. 

He tells himself that this is the reason behind all of his anticipation. And the hardness within his pants. 

When the streetlights begin to shift into gold, Synox applies the filter of night-glasses. He scans the strolling crowd below, looking for the telltale sign of her signature hair--that waist-length, ultra-smooth, neon-pink ponytail. _You would think,_ Synox ponders, _that someone who works for the criminal underworld might_ _at least try to be less conspicuous!_ However--if his memory served him--A.J. had been anything but ordinary. Her skin is a soft, rose-dust colored hue. Her slitted eyes are bright, bottle-green and gold. Her eyelashes are surprisingly long, and clinging with minuscule, sparkling jewels in the same shade as her hair. 

Synox might have even said that she was _beautiful,_ if she'd been human. 

The suns drop below the horizon, and the urban landscape is thrown into darkness. Synox watches carefully as figures pass in and out of the gallery's light: a pump, purple Twi'lek and her human wife; a cluster of pilots, out for a tour; a man with a briefcase and horn-rimmed glasses. _No sign of her yet,_ he thinks, _But she'll come. She will._ As he waits, he halfway-listens to Zero's latest arrangement of Blue's string quartet, humming tunelessly at the electronic beats. The background music helps to keep him focused; it muffles out the absurd conversations that flow through his head, distracting his thoughts. 

_"Could you see yourself getting into a regular hostage-capture situation with her?" Agent Zero suggests._

_"Oh yeah? How stern of a talking-to did you give her, Synox?" Aava Arek smirks._

_"Is it possible that you have feelings for her? Like, not normal feelings, but maybe, like, One Extra Synox Unit of Emotion?" Blue asks._

Synox finds himself breathing more heavily as he gazes down on the art gallery. _Does_ he have feelings for her? _Should_ he consider this meeting 'regular'? Synox was among the most perfectly-crafted off all the Clone batches; a thing in which he takes great pride and comfort. It's not in his _nature_ to want to have a relationship; it's not in his _programming_ to ache for something more than a quick, one-night stand. And yet, he can hear the way that A.J. had breathed heavily into his ear; he can imagine the tone of her voice as her slim, pink-painted fingertips wrote out the note _("Next time,_ you _can wear the binders, big boy)._

Focused. Stay focused! 

He clicks the module on his helmet to increase the volume output. But it is not long until Synox' brain has once again re-routed to thoughts of the pink-haired siren. _Where is she now?_ He wonders, watching the crowd. _Has she departed yet, or is she still preparing at home?_ He wonders what the home of a criminal looks like; what _her_ home might look like. Unbidden, the image of A.H. sitting in front of a floor-length mirror, inspecting the fit of her skin-tight catsuit, swims into mind. _No. Don't think of that. Think..._ The image shifts and changes: A.J., stripped nude, standing over him in the fresher; her hair long and plastered against those thick, curvaceous hips...her hand pushing him down to the slick, fresher floor, directing his face to rest between her legs...

 _KARK!_ Synox nearly gives away his position as he curses loudly. Fortunately, he quiets himself not a moment too soon; for a familiar, pink ponytail is emerging out from the crowd.

_A.J._

Oh, it's _her_ , alright: a short, stocky figure clad in all black, new blaster-pistols strapped to each curvaceous hip. Synox feels a swooping sensation as he watches her strolling confidently across the museum floor, weaving in and around the other onlookers. When the theif pauses to admire a statue of a rearing rancour, the gallery lights throw the muscular plane of her arms, back and calves into sharp relief. He inhales deeply through the filter of his mask. 

_Siren,_ Synox thinks gleefully: _You've fallen right into my trap!_ _There's no way_ _that you're escaping my custody tonight!_

The familiar thrill of adrenaline pours into his veins, and the Clone Commander settles himself into a crouching posture. He is ready to launch himself through the thin layer of transparisteel, if the situation calls for it; but, hopefully, it will not. If all goes according to plan, he would be able to capture a damning holo of her criminal activity before he even breaks so much as a sweat. 

As the pink-haired siren walks around to the other side of the statue, Synox finds himself squinting to follow. He wonders at the reasons behind her seemingly foolish actions; _the_ _strangest thing,_ _to send an alert of your upcoming criminal activities! And to the authorities of law enforcement, no less!_ Perhaps he will have to ask her about her motives afterwards. Perhaps she will not easily want to talk to him, and he will have to... _encourage_ her. 

Synox so lost in thought about the idea of an interrogation with A.J. that he does not even hear the figure creeping up behind him. 

“Well, _hello_ there, _handsome!_ ” a sultry voice purrs. "I was so _hoping_ that you'd be here tonight!"

He jerks and lurches up from his position, nearly tilting off of the rooftop. “W- _what?”_ he hears himself stammer. “What did-- _how_ did you get _up_ here so _quickly_?! I _just_ _saw_ you down there! And now...you're..I..” Synox' heartbeat thrums rapidly in his chest. He feels his face flushing, feels his tongue flapping uselessly in his mouth. _Professional!_ He screams at himself inwardly. _You're a professional, man! Get it together!_

A.J. is smiling back at him, cheeky. The pull of her supple lips leaves a pinched dimple within the curve of each cheek, and it strikes Synox as _very_ distracting. 

"Criminal suspect A.J," he greets. "There is a warrant out for your arrest. By the laws of our good city Coruscant, and under the illustrious name of the Emperor, it is my sworn duty to--" 

" _Aww!"_ A.J. interrupts. She is pointing at the flimsy clutched tightly in Synox' hand. "So you _did_ get my love note!" 

Synox is horrified _._ He hastily drops the piece of flimsy in his hand, nearly discarding his blaster in the process. "Love _what?!"_ He gasps. _No! Don't let her distract you!_ Once again, the surprising forwardness has nearly made him stumble. He forcibly continues with his rehearsed speech: "T- _Thereby_ , it is my sworn duty to apprehend you, and to turn you into the local authorities. I do this in order that law and justice might be upheld; not only here on this planet, but all throughout the great galaxy." 

A.J. looks slightly amused. She tilts her head to one side, allowing the silken curtain of her ponytail fall over her face. "Did you bring the binders?" She asks. 

Synox frowns. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The _binders."_ She emphasizes. "So that we could pick up? Right where we left off?" 

The way that she brazenly bats her eyes at him makes heat flood throughout Synox' entire _body_. It begins low in his belly, then flushes outwards in an explosive revelation. He feels every ounce of his blood singing, thrumming into his tightening groin and already-red cheeks. "I...you... _What?..."_ He repeats. If his bucket could have allowed for his jaw to unhinge, than he might have done so. 

The thief sighs in a playful, put-upon way. "Oh, _fine_ then. I suppose that we can still do this in the _long way_." Flowing into a standing posture, A.J. rises against the night sky. She gestures over her shoulder, pink fingernails glinting against the pinprick of stars. "Feel like running, Commander? Think you can catch me?" 

Synox _stares._ Without so much as waiting to see if he will follow, A.J. turns and leaps feet-first off of the building.

>>>

> Great Galactic Code 163.7: _Such is the art of inhuman deception; that the aliens often attempt to deceive our kind through arts of deception, seduction, and mimicry. Thus they deceptively gain the upper hand, and displace the unsuspecting homo sapien._

>>>

 _This is madness,_ Synox thinks as he pounds down the streets. _Total madness!_ He weaves through strewn garbage, leaps over a barrel of fuel, and only _just_ catches sight of f A.J.’s bright ponytail flicking around yet another corner.

As the thief hurdles down smokey, dark streets with an inhuman speed, and it takes every ounce of Synox' training to lose her in the rush of twisting shadows. “Halt, in the name of the Empire!" He shouts. _You're foolish!_ the clone scolds himself, sucking in a lungful of frigid night air. _You're the one whose supposed to setting the terms here, not her!_ But the fact remains that he _doesn't_ have this situation under his control; not his body, in the way that his heart thunders and races--not his mind, in the way that it spirals away into hot, reckless thoughts: _T_ _hrow her up against the wall!_ His pounding heartbeat invites. _Why not whip_ _out_ _those binders again? You_ _could strip drown, feel up, and really just take each other--why not over there,_ _right behind that public trash retainer?!_

Synox growls at himself. How in the _galaxy_ had he arrived at the point of even considering something like _dumpster bondage?!_

 _This is all A.J.'s fault!_ And _yet_...Synox is finding that he actually _does_ kind of want this. He... _likes_ the way that the night shivers around him. He _likes_ the fast pace that he tears down the streets. When the clone actually pauses to think about it, he finds that he _enjoys_ the rough, heavy way that his boots clatter against the asphaltsteel; he _enjoys_ how his lung are burning, heart pounds; the way that pink leads him on through the darkness.

“I’m coming for you!” Synox calls out. 

A.J. turns and laughs over her shoulder, surprise and pleasure upon her face as she catch sight of how close he has drawn. The thief suddenly crouches low against the ground, bending her knees and springing upwards into the air. "Not bad!" she calls, flying out of the way of his grappling arms. He watches in amazement as she runs up the side of the building, moving as gracefully over the vertical ground as a human would walk upon the flat earth. “But still not _bad_ enough for _me!_ ”

Synox shakes his head, finding himself smiling widely as he watches her work. _Marvelous,_ really. He wonders why the Empire does not invest more time and energy into recruiting non-human cadets such as this Espiron. With more people like _her_ in the military ranks, _surely_ they’d have a higher success rate.

"I'm not through with you _yet!"_ Synox hears himself calling. With a grunt, he scales up and over a few discarded ammunition crates, gaining several lengths of running speed by cutting across the arch of the wall to maintain pursuit. 

And he thinks: this is _fun!_

The thought stirs something buried deep within Synox. _How long has it been, really, since I’ve had actual fun?_ Not entertainment _,_ like watching a newly-minted Clone Commander holo; and not relaxation, like the unavoidable bottle-hours onboard the Bluebird. The actual, pleasurable _fun_ that he _likes,_ and plans and prepares for. T he kind that made him feel grateful to be _alive._

He cannot remember. Not before A.J.

Once again, the words of his friends come to Synox unbidden. _“Could you see yourself getting into a regular fugitive-capture situation with her? You know, more than the occasional set-up?”_ … _“Awww, Synox, you want to recruit her?!”_ At the time he’d felt himself freezing up with anger. Someone like him could _never_ be interested in such frivolous activities as romance or dating! And yet, the words of Agent Zero also echo in his mind: “ _The heart wants what the heart wants, man._ _Your brain might want to be in and out and done; but the heart? That’s just not how the heart works. The heart wants...what the heart wants. And there ain’t nothing you can do about it when it’s been set.”_

Synox grits his teeth. 

_No!_ He thinks stubbornly. _I just met the girl. This is nothing. She is nothing to me._ He physically waves the stray thoughts away. _One time-just once-she got me off. It was good. But it’s not like I’m trapped here because of that! It’s not like I ‘have my heart set on her!’ Like I'm some kind of...love-sick Zero, pining after Adnau!_ _I’m just here to do my Imperial duty!_

He is jolted back into attention by an echoing laugh somewhere in the vicinity above his head. “Hurry up, _Sy!”_ he hears her purr, “Or you’ll never get to give me that _‘stern talking to'_ like you promised!"

Synox pulls to a skittering halt, looking around wildly for his fleeing prey. _How did she find out about my nickname?!_ Briefly, he wonders if he ought to lecture Adnau about the protection of such sensitive Imperial information. _(Regardless: Synox cannot believe what those words, from those lips, are doing to his insides.)_

"Oh, we'll definitely doing _that._ " Synox agrees. When he finally locates A.J.--one foot dangling lazily over a balcony--he clicks his heels to activate his rocket-boots. The small, compact engines come roaring to life, and Synox rushes into the air after her. "You're not getting away from me _that_ easily!" He hears a gasp, and then a musical, appreciative laugh as he steers himself into pursuit.

 _"Gotcha!"_ Synox crows, coming to rest on the ledge of the balcony. "This is the end of the line for you, pink-haired siren!"

The woman _laughs._ And rather than jumping away from reach, she steps directly forward into his grasp. "Very _good,_ Clone Commander Synox." She grins, and pants heavily against his chest. "You really _are_ the best and the brightest in his excellence' service." He can feel the heat of her heaving body bleeding through the connective tissues of his armor. He can smell the faint traces of black nebula on her breath, woven into the good scents of clean sweat and cherry. "...Won't you come _inside?"_ she asks, pulling him by the hand towards the balcony's door. "I spent my whole afternoon cleaning up around the house. I was _really_ hoping that you'd meant what you said..." she tilts her head upon that strong, lovely neck, "about _coming after me?"_

Synox is... _tempted._ He remembers the way that she'd stroked her hands down his chest; how she'd slid them beneath his belt, into his briefs; how she'd removed his helmet, whispering sweetly into his ear as he'd ached and he'd groaned and he'd spurted hot pleasure.

A.J. is smiling as if she remembers, too. "Why the rush, Commander?" she asks, voice warm and inviting. "Come on in, s _tay_ for a while. Before you head back, we might as well kick our feet up a bit first."

The green-and-gold glint of her eyes makes it plain that she has something _far_ more exciting in mind. 

Synox can feel his pulse rising. “I...I have... _binders!”_ Synox croaks. “I'm on duty, here! Got to take you in...” But these, apparently, were _not_ the right words to say; the expression now crossing the woman's face is perfectly _salacious._ _"S-space-Christ!"_ he panics. "I mean, into _custody_! _J_ _ail!_ With these..these... _regulation restrictions_!" Her smile is making him go deeper and deeper into the red. “ _Look!”_ the clone commander protests, any semblance of his authority fleeting. “You are once again trying to inhibit justice! You are deliberately ignoring the laws of the Empire by criminally seducing your way out of justice! Thereby, it is my designed responsibility to--to...”

She pushes Synox up against the sliding doorway, gently pushing away his limp-handed blaster.

His head _spins._ He...he _really_ shouldn’t be letting this happen...He...he _shouldn’t_ be wanting this to happen so badly. Not during _work._ Not with a _criminal._ But it’s all happening now; just the same way it had before. There are fingertips working under his collar; his helmet sliding off with a _hiss;_ his raw face exposed to the woman before him. And he _Wants. It._ More than _anything_ he’s ever wanted in his _life_.

“...So it’s _working,_ then?” A.J. whispers under her breath. “Am I _successfully_ seducing you?...”

Synox' eyes flutter closed.

With a tilt of his head, he invites her to breathe in the scent of his sweat-soaked skin; to run her rough tongue over the edge of his jaw; to taste the flesh at the base of his neck and shoulder. He doesn’t really have the time, have the presence to debate this; because A.J. is now _kissing_ him again. And he _wants_ it. Instead of snapping his arms around her back and pinning her into the security hold that he ought, Clone Commander Synox finds himself arching into the exquisite heat and flavor of her mouth; wanting to spend every moment of every day drinking her in.

 _Fucked,_ He thinks distantly. _Force, kriff, damn. I’m so fucked._

“...We have so much to _finish_ between us, Commander.” his pink-haired siren purrs. " _Please_. Won't you come in for a while?"

>>>

> Great Galactic Code 111.9: _Homo sapiens are the galaxy's most superior of beings. Therefore, it is highly discouraged for inhumans to breed with their Imperial counterparts; lest they forget their true place amongst the natural order of things._

>>>

A.J. crawls into Synox' naked, aching lap.

He groans as she straddles him casually, settling a _gorgeous_ heat and weight down upon the sensitive skin of his thighs. " _Easy,_ Sy." she soothes, reaching down into the space between them. She grasps at the head of his hard, aching cock, directing towards the inside of her dripping thighs. " _That's_ it... _C'mon now_..." As she sinks down upon the head of his dick, Synox' chest stutters with the sensation of it.

_HOT. WET. GOOD._

He pants and strains upward, seeking her touch, but is held back by the unyielding restraint of the binders.

" _C-can't...!"_ Synox huffs, chest rising and falling from effort. _"I-I!_ I can't-t! _T-take it_ \--!"

He hears his protests slide into more moaning as A.J. begins to rock up and down on his shaft. She pushes against the shelf of his muscular chest, hands anchored upon his flexing pectorals. _F-FORCE!_ Synox has never been a particularly _religious_ man, but the epiphany of her body sliding around his shaft is enough to _convert_ him right here on the spot. 

Sweat pours down down his brow, stings into his eyes; every muscle, ever _nerve_ twitches with delight. Wonderfully, Synox can hear A.J. groaning loudly; she is a generous lover, noisily sharing her pleasure with him. Sighing and squeezing her strong pelvic muscles, gasping and groaning upon his hard dick, he can feel every delicious ounce of her enjoyment. He even feels the beginning notes of her urgency, as she increases the rapid shift of her hips. 

"...More?" A.J. gasps.

Her round, dimpled cheeks are rosy with pleasure; her pink hair fallen into messy, loose strands. There is a charming flush that goes down her chest, over her shoulders; it scatters across the rose-dust of her strong, supple flesh, and 

"M-more!" Synox begs, surprising himself. "Please...A.J... _more."_

It has been a long time since Synox has been rode like this--and even _longer_ since he'd been the one on top. But _now,_ he can feel every delicious _ounce_ of their joined pleasure; _now,_ as A.J. clings to his body, impaling herself over and over upon his hard dick, he can feel every _inch_ , every vibrant _nerve_ of his rejoicing flesh. _Why has it been so long since I have done this?!_ _What could ever be better, across this whole empire?_ Synox feels _alive_ from the base of his spine to his fingertips, and he never wants to fall back into hazy, muted darkness. 

"Ahhh... _AAHH_ _..."_

He is aware that he's quickly approaching the edge of a climax. He wishes that he could reach out _bite_ into that ample, exquisite flesh of her ass as it slaps wetly against the raw skin of his thighs. Synox sees star-systems exploding behind the lids of his eyes as she shudders and groans and grinds down around him: the _tightness_ of it _(her flesh, gripping onto his scorching erection);_ the _wetness_ of it _(her glossy, clear lubricant soaking them both);_ the _rightness_ of it _(the feeling of filling, and being filled, up to the brim.)_

 _"AHH...AHHHH....!"_ Synox is openly screaming now. " _AH!_ _AYE! JAY! I'M! I'M GOING TO--!"_

She drops her sweat-slick forehead against his, gripping on to his jaw with a bone-crushing grasp. " _Astra."_ She groans against his lips. Her mouth moves against his, their wet eyelashes entwining, as Synox comes and _comes_ into his sheath. As Synox comes down from his shuddering high, she whispers into the shell of his ear: "My _name._ It's Astra Jareyze. Don't...forget about me after I'm gone."

>>>

> Great Galactic Code 24.7: _No such thing is as satisfying as good work done right._

>>>

CC-1812 stands at attention before the Bluebird. There is a distinctive ache in his jaw, and an undeniable tiredness from several nights' missed sleep. _Just a few minutes more,_ the clone commander thinks: _and we will be jumping into hyperspace. This time, some bottle hours might actually do me_ good; _so long as I can get away and take a long nap._

He steadies himself as twiggy shadow of Minister Blue strides onto the airspace. The young man is followed closely behind by the hulking shadow his Agent Zero.

 _"Synox!"_ Blue greets, gripping his shoulder as if he's a man come back after long-war. " _Congratulations_ on your apprehension of our Coruscanti criminal-mastermind number-one!" He drops his gaze to the ground, as if he is flattered and pleased by the minister's praise; Zero, however, seems to keeps his unbroken upon Synox; face. "I'm sure you are _aching_ to tell us all about your fateful encounter! Come on, get inside! I'll have Aava whip us up some Purple Nebulas." 

Agent Aava Arek, arms folded behind him, does _not_ appear moved by his suggestion. "Hey, Sy..." She says, brows knitted together with concern. "...We missed you at our policy meeting. But...good work, I guess....on getting your gal?" 

Synox feels his stomach jolt and twist. _Does she know?! But how could she know?!_

He works hard to keep his gaze locked upon the ground as Zero, Blue and Aava walk up the gangplank _She couldn't have found out about Astra...could she?_ Just in case, Synox keeps several lengthy paces between himself and the others as he follows them up and onto the ship. He knows that one of the reasons Blue favors him for the Clone Commander program is because his thoughts and emotions are so readable and transparent upon his face. 

Once on board the ship, Synox sets about his security check. Zero lunches them out from his pilot seat, Blue twittering over his shoulder all the while. Aava Arek, to his discomfort, remains suspiciously quiet; the Force-user appears withdrawn, and takes her place at the round, ebony-wood table with a particularly morose look in her eyes. Ignoring his better judgement, Synox walks over and sits down beside her. 

"Hey." He says, setting his helmet upon the seat between them. "Everything alright?" 

The woman looks up at him, eyes filled with caution and concern. "....I was going to ask you the very same thing," she says, resting one clawed hand under her chin. "You and... _A.J._ I thought that was...a _Thing._ Right?" 

Again, the clone feels his stomach twist. _Did she found out about what went down at her house? Does she know about our secret connection?_ Synox clears his throat, buying for time. As heat and color steadily rises in his face, he knows that he is running out of moments. "Ah..." He stalls, eyes sweeping around. "Er...Precisely what kind of _thing_ are you implying, Aava?" 

To his surprise, she looks as though she might _cry._

"The... _bonding thing!"_ Aava says, visibly tearing. "I thought that--you and she--I mean, Zero too, not just me--we thought that--Are you _not--_ " 

Synox is _confused_. He does not understand why Aava Arek is displaying such hurt emotions about all of this. _Does she think that I have betrayed the Empire now? Does she consider my actions downright deplorable?_ Synox has always suspected that Aava was more... _lax_ about her loyalties to the Emperor, given her feelings about being the Hand. And he also knew that she found the rules upon clone sexuality to be rather archaic; and so, he had not expected her to take such a stance. Disquieted, he wonders how to reassure her. 

"Aava: I can guarantee you: there is _nothing_ that I care for so much as the fate of the Empire. It is my greatest desire to see that the far reach of the Emperor instills peace and prosperity to the outmost edges of the galaxy." He says this with confidence, hoping that this statement of loyalty will assuage any of her remaining fears. To his dismay, this only seems to distort her features further. 

" _Sy."_ Aava says pleadingly. "You...you _like_ that girl. We thought... _I_ thought..." She looks away. "I didn't think that you would take her in. We thought that you would...you _know..._ just _hook up_ or something! Not... _leave her in binders at the judiciary!_ "

Sy feels his face soften. _Perhaps I have misjudged Aava's intentions._ Testing the weight of his new, precious knowledge, he mulls over how he might tell her his newest, most closely-guarded secret. "Aava..." He says, treading carefully now. "What would you say...if I told you... _that_...I had...set up a kind of _arrangement?"_ He watches the rigidness of her shoulders shift. "And...would you keep it private...if... _off the record,_ of course...if I told you...that...I _could_ see myself getting into a regular capture-captive situation with her?"

He watches the change passing over her face. It's _wonderful._

"I hope that you would not... _mention it_ to Minister Blue...if I had accidentally let it slip to Astra that there is a very _particular_ way to remove her binder? Or that there is a very specific key, in her specific cell, with a tunnel beneath the portable fresher?"

Aava is staring at him as though Life Day has come early. " _Commander Synox."_ she breathes admiringly. "Are you telling me--that-- _you_ \--broke the rules? On _purpose?_ To let your romantic-girlfriend _get away again?!"_

He struggles to keep the grin off his face; This is _fun._

"It would _hardly_ be entertaining for me if I had no more criminals left to chase while visiting Coruscant." 

Just then, Zero walks in to the dining area. He spies Aava and Synox, grinning like fools, and he leans casually against the Bluebird's hull. "Well, _well!"_ He laughs, projecting a satisfied smirk out at the clone commander. "Seems like the heart _does_ gets what it wants after all!" Synox finds himself laughing; Aava grinning and tugging him into a hug, Zero scrunching a fist against his short, bristling head. "Good on ya, buddy." The bodyguard purrs. "I just _knew_ that you'd make the right choice." Synox grins at his friends, basking in the glow of their knowing gaze. 

Minister Blue stalks into the hallway. He turns, glaring at the trio, and snaps: "What are you all smiling for? Didn't you _hear_?! That _criminal_ has already escaped once again!" He storms from the room, fingers clicking away at his datapad. "Great, just _great_! The whole _holo_ will soon hear about this! Clone Commander Synox, darling of the Empire, once again _fails_ to restore order and justice. This is the _worst_ _thing in history!_ My career is _over!_ I'm going to be forced to retire, start up a nerf farm in the outer rim!" 

Zero groans, placing an hand over his face. 

"0n1, can I wear something black? Do I even _look good in black_?! How am I supposed to go into farming, when all of my clothes are tailored for Imperial White and Holo Blue?! Am I supposed to _grovel_ like some kind of _animal_ in whatever _rags_ I can buy at the common market?!" 

Aava snickers softly as Synox pats Zero's shoulder with a sympathetic hand. 

"The heart wants what it wants." He hums to the distraught bodyguard. "Nothing you can do about the heart, when it's been set."

>>>>

END 

>>>>

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!!! Comments and/or kudos are deeply appreciated! 
> 
> Also, if you like, copy and paste the link below for more information about A.J.'s alien species (Espirion):  
> https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Espirion_(species)


End file.
